


Long Time Coming

by IdrisSmith



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Sallstrade, Sherlolly - Fluff, Sherlolly - Freeform, Warstan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:45:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5266676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrisSmith/pseuds/IdrisSmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is holding the newborn Baby Watson and asks Molly if their child will be this small when they're born but they're not even dating yet.</p>
<p>[Nonny Prompt]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Time Coming

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt from Nonny :D Fluffs! I love fluffs!

A lot of thing happened within a month. Between the time Sherlock pulled the trigger on Magnussen on Christmas day to his nearly departure which was promptly halted by a faux Moriarty, a lot had happened. They were little things, most would consider insignificant like taking down the instigator who released the video within twenty-four hours, as was his full pardon by the Queen who was apparently fond of him. His life settled into a routine, nothing spectacular or out of the ordinary. Well, to Sherlock’s standard that was.

 

It should be boring, but Sherlock felt nothing of such. For the first time in his life, he was perfectly content. He was solving cases from his flat on some days and Lestrade would show up with something interesting within two or three days. He would solve the cases, usually nothing higher than a six, and return to his laptop. Oh, and he met her too, at an alarmingly frequent basis than he should be.

 

He tiptoed around her, figuratively. For the first week he had been overly cautious of what he said or do. She was somewhat the same, quiet and tucked in her corner. The only difference was she was making lesser attempt to talk to him. He didn’t like it, at all. And Sherlock retaliated the best way he knew how. He got into her hair and started to prance around to get her attention. It started simple, leaving her that favourite cup of coffee she loved from the shop across the street and it escalated to him coercing her boss to change her schedule to cater to his. If she noticed, she didn’t complain, she just quietly continued ignoring him.

 

Then, the baby came. Not theirs, although Sherlock had, maybe, let his thoughts wandered of the possibility. It was the Watson’s. It was at the end of a fine January when Sherlock received John’s frantic call. He was in the lab with Molly who, again, was ignoring his very existence and he had been trying to get her to turn to look at him. He would have praised her persistence if he wasn’t so irritated of being ignored.

 

‘Mary’, ‘baby’ and ‘now’ followed by a very loud screaming Mary was all Sherlock managed to get from the phone call and ‘Barts’ from the short text John might have fired as he struggled to keep up. It took him a second to let it all sink in. Going through the information presented as he would any case and he stood almost immediately, startling Molly who was edging closer to retrieve a vial.

 

“Mary’s in labour, now,” he blurted out to her.

 

She blinked in respond. No doubt surprised by his sudden movement and the information he shared.

 

“Where?” she managed after a moment, the first word she spoke to him after so many hours of silent.

 

Sherlock had to remind himself to calm down. He was a fully grown man and to be excited at how his petite pathologist was finally speaking to him was not – sod it, he didn’t care. He was happy to hear her voice. “Barts,” he managed, grinning like an idiot. Not realizing that Molly had mistakenly interpreted his delight for her and thought it was for John and Mary.

 

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said, beaming. Yet, she kept her distance, he was disappointed. “Have they arrived or are we waiting for John to bring her in?”

 

Sherlock frowned; Molly was speaking to her but only when it pertained to John and Mary. He couldn’t help but looked like a kick puppy, earning him a confused stare from Molly. “Uh, they’re here. I assume, Mary was screaming,” he said, dropping the word ‘assume’ lightly when he was always offended when people use it on him.

 

Molly cocked an eyebrow, “Alright, I’ll go and find out,” she said as she stalked towards the door without another word, leaving Sherlock groaning in frustration.

 

He slammed his forehead onto the table, cursing his luck and it was made worse by the arrival of one Sally Anderson just as he was in the middle of berating himself about ten minutes after Molly left. He didn’t even hear her coming. He wouldn’t have, he was far too busy being angry with himself and acting like a schoolboy and she was there to see it. Perhaps even enjoy it before she spoke to him in her usual patronizing tone.

 

“As much as I enjoy your pain, Doctor Watson had asked if I could fetch you,” she said from the door and Sherlock stared at her crossly. Not his day. At all. “Come on; spare the table from your abuse,”

 

Sherlock grunted, but rose from his chair nonetheless. _Later, he would deal with his annoyance later,_ he thought was the fact that Mary was in labour crossed his mind again. The long awaited baby Watson, she was arriving at last. It was one of the best news he heard in the span of three years. There were no threats of murders, no criminal masterminds, no crazy cabbies – nothing. Just the mundane everyday life and usual crime committed by less than creative assailants. He felt as if nothing could ruin his mood.

 

And Sally proved him wrong almost immediately as they walked side by side towards the maternity ward. “Did Molly finally grow a spine and kick you out of her lab?” she asked, pleased with his predicament.

 

“Have you finally found a decent unmarried man who’s not a cheater?” he fired back out of spite. It was a low blow, he knew it. But, he was irritated. He was trying, and he never expected anything, just a bit of understanding.

 

Sally smirked back at him, unaffected by his jab, “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she scoffed.

 

They weren’t friends, far from it. But, they weren’t quite enemies either. There was an understanding between them. Sally would ceased to call Sherlock freak or insinuate he was a murderer (he was glad she didn’t know about Magnussen, very few did) and he would keep his deduction of her choices of lovers to himself. He didn’t care in the first place; he had only spat out some deductions out of pure annoyance towards her in the past.

 

“With you glowing track record, I can only guess,” he said, though his words carried no real malice. It was still something John, Mary and Molly would classify as ‘bit not good’.

 

“And yours is?” Sally asked, not missing a beat, keeping up with the banter as well as Sherlock’s long steps. To others, it may look as if they were arguing, to those who knew better…well, they weren’t sure either. Nobody quite understood the dynamic between Sherlock and Sally. There was a comfortable understanding, an unspoken agreement between them. And only they knew what it entailed.

 

“Hey,” Molly’s voice broke away the comfortable exchange and Sherlock noted they had arrived in the waiting area for family and friends.

 

His eyes landed on Mrs Hudson who was leaning in the corner, flicking through a magazine. Then on Anderson who was there for reasons even Sherlock wasn’t sure of. It wasn’t as if John and Anderson were friends, and Mary definitely couldn’t stand the man. Though curious, Sherlock thought it was wise not to ask and nodded at Lestrade instead. A happier, calmer Lestrade – he missed something, He knew he did. And Sally moved without a word to sit next to the Detective Inspector, lacing her fingers with the man.

 

_Ah._

 

Again, Sherlock made a decision not to comment on the development. He returned his gaze onto Molly who was boring her eyes onto him. She was trying to read him and usually it didn’t take her that long to figure him out. Though, he can’t fault her, he hadn’t been himself as of late. Not since the New Year brought different things to light.

 

“I haven’t heard anything and yes, I did ask,” she said before he could open his mouth.

 

He coughed uneasily, feeling uncomfortable how she went straight to think that was what he wanted to say to her. Still, it was not her fault. He was an ass and he knew it. “Umm… Thanks,” he mumbled and she eyed him with a curious gaze. From the corner of his eyes he could see how Anderson’s eyes were bulging with excitement. Oh the damn theories.

 

“You’re welcome,” Molly replied, “I still have an hour left in my shift; I’ll come back when I’m done. Call me if anything happens, okay?”

 

He nodded, dumbly so, “Uh, right,”

 

Once again, Molly left without another word as she waved goodbyes towards everyone present in the waiting area. He can’t even catch a break.

 

\--

 

Three hours and several minutes later which Sherlock tried not to emphasize as so to not sound irritable, the door finally swung open. A middle aged doctor walked in, followed by a younger woman. Molly who was nodding off on Sherlock’s shoulder was up on her feet at once. She blinked, rubbing her sleepiness away and wishing her stiff muscles to life. It was not the most comfortable position, but between Lestrade, Sally, Mrs Hudson and Anderson, the only seat left was next to Sherlock.

 

“Mary is fine,” the doctor said in the usual cheery tone Sherlock hated, he held his tongue from making snarky remarks. “We’re moving her into a normal ward and John’s with her right now,” he added patiently, addressing everyone in the room with a look. Sherlock scoffed internally, already expecting John not to leave Mary’s side, “If you’ll follow Nurse Pullman, she’ll take all of you to the room,”

 

There was a soft shuffling about as everyone moved; all had left their seat when the doctor came in at varying speed. Lestrade, Mrs Hudson, Sally and Anderson all thanked the doctor graciously while Molly addressed him by his first name. She was familiar with the man. Sherlock hated that fact and was glad when the doctor excused himself. They followed the nurse in silence. He made a point to stand beside Molly and no one argued as they filed into the room.

 

Mary looked positively exhausted but happy. Her smile was wide when she saw the herd of people coming in. Mrs Hudson was by her bedside at once, holding out for the little bundle in Mary’s arm.

 

“What’s her name?” Mrs Hudson asked, noting the garish pink colour fabric wrapped around the infant.

 

“Lila Louise Watson,” John answered in Mary’s place, “we borrowed your middle name. I hope you don’t mind,”

 

Mrs Hudson’s smile grew and she sniffled, “that’s a lovely name.”

 

“It is,” Sally agreed, peering over Mrs Hudson’s shoulder to have a better look at the baby. What she saw clearly pleased her as she retreated with a smile.

 

“You would be wanting one of your own now,” Mrs Hudson said offhandedly to Sally. The woman blushed, an actual blush that took Sherlock by surprised but Lestrade seemed to be unfazed. “Molly too, I expect. Then again you were always wonderful with children, Molly,”

 

Two blushing women in the room, luckily Anderson was sensible enough to clear his throat at the most opportune time and clear the tension, “Have you chosen her Godparents yet?” he asked, ahead of himself.

 

Mary chuckled in respond and John shook his head in amusement, “We have,” John answered. “It’s quite obvious really,” he added without hesitation, surprised how no one else had come to the conclusion.

 

“Well, we guessed as much you’d two pick Sherlock as her Godfather,” Lestrade chimed in, “What we wanted to know if you’ve given thoughts about her Godmother,”

 

“Isn’t it too early to discuss that?” Mrs Hudson asked helpfully. “She just got here,”

 

“Every other parents, yeah,” Sally said, laughing, “But, you have to admit. We’re talking about John here and I have a feeling Mary’s probably a step behind him,”

 

“Oi!” John exclaimed, offended.

 

Sally and her partner-in-crime laughed easily, “You know what we mean,” Lestrade said.

 

“Molly,” Mary said from the bed, looking towards the pathologist who hadn’t made a move to hold Lila, she was content looking from a distance. She was calm and collective in the midst of excitement. “We decided on Molly for Lila’s Godmother,”

 

Molly gaped, looking at the couple, “Me?”

 

They nodded in unison.

 

“Wouldn’t you prefer someone else?” Molly asked, confused. She was never the first choice; it was clear as she discounted her importance even to her friends. “Not Janine?”

 

Mary shook her head, “In the last year, I’ve spoken to you more than I did Janine. I know more about you than I do about her and you keep Sherlock in line,”

 

“I don’t,” Molly said, blushing furiously while Mrs Hudson moved to place the infant in Molly’s arm. She was awkward at first, never having held a newborn in her life, but she was a quick learner. Soon she was staring down at the sleeping girl who was blissfully content in her sleep. Sherlock chose that very moment to loom over her, peering over her shoulder as Sally did to Mrs Hudson.

 

The room fell silence was the two stare at the small child in Molly’s arm. Six pairs of eyes trained on them as they waited for what was to come.

 

Molly spoke first, “Do you want to hold her?” her face turned, nearly colliding with Sherlock’s and he took a cautious step back.

 

“Sure…” he replied, though he sounded anything bad.

 

“Hold out your arm,” Molly instructed and he did.

 

Gently Lila was transferred into waiting arm. He flinched a little, unsure. But, Molly reassured him with one look and he held the small child closer to him as she pulled back. They didn’t even realize how everyone in the room was holding their breaths. They were lost in the world which was theirs, content to be separated from reality for a moment.

 

“Lovely, isn’t she?” Molly asked, stroking the Lila’s cheek slowly. There was a soft smile on Molly’s lips, the kind Sherlock wanted to see again, preferably if the said smile was caused by him.

 

“I wonder,” he said, unthinkingly. Or perhaps he had done all the thinking and came to the conclusion before he uttered the words.

 

Molly hummed her respond.

 

“If our child will be this small,” he added, calm and hopeful.

 

The statement caused Molly to freeze in her spot, she titled her head up just enough to meet Sherlock’s gaze. A beat in time, and the question fell from her lips, “Shouldn’t you take me to dinner first?”

 

“Finally!” Someone exclaimed. It was unmistakably Anderson. But, no one cared as their eyes were focused on the consulting detective who was starting giddily at his pathologist.

 

Well, John and Mary certainly didn’t mind having the birth of their child upstaged by the two idiots. Largely because they had plotted it with the help of Mycroft, not to mention it was a long time coming. They were just thankful the two got their heads out of the sand, as Anderson said it, finally.


End file.
